s spirit strengthened by earnest devotion
through many lives to the search for the True Knowledge."

Both voices had spoken together, the one in English and the other in the
ancient tongue of Khem, yet he had heard each syllable separately and
comprehended both utterances perfectly. He felt a cold grip of fear at
his heart as he looked towards the mummy-case, and, as his fear had
warned him, it was empty. Then he looked at his daughter, and as their
eyes met, she said in the most commonplace tones:

"My dear Dad, what _is_ the matter with you? If advanced people like
ourselves believed in any such nonsense, I should be inclined to say
that you had seen a ghost; but I suppose it's only that silly fourth
dimension puzzle that's worrying you. Now, look here, you must really
take your whisky and go to bed. If you go on bothering any longer about
'N to the fourth,' you will have one of your bad headaches to-morrow and
won't be able to finish your address for the Institute."

She put her hand out and took up the decanter. It passed without any
apparent resistance through the jar. She lifted it from the same place,
and poured out the usual modicum of whisky into the glass, which was
standing just where the flagon was. Then she pressed the trigger of the
syphon, and the familiar hiss of the soda-water brought the Professor,
as he thought, back to his senses.

But no! There could be no doubt about it. There in material form on the
corner of his table was a point-blank, tangible contradiction of the
universally accepted axiom that two bodies cannot occupy the same space,
and that, come from somewhere or nowhere, there were two plainly
material objects through which his daughter's hand, without her even
knowing it, had passed as easily as it would have done through a little
cloud of steam. Happily she had no idea of what he had seen and heard,
and so for her sake he made a strong effort to control himself, and said
as steadily as he could:

"Thank you, Niti, it is very good of you. Yes, I think I am a little
tired to-night. Good-night now, and I promise you that I will be off
very soon; I will just have one more pipe, and drink my whisky, and then
I really will go. Good-night, little woman. We'll have a talk about the
Mummy in the morning."

As soon as his daughter had closed the door, Professor Marmion returned
to his writing-table. The decanter of whisky, the tumbler, and the
syphon of soda-water were still standing on the